Things They Won't Talk About Later //Tundra and Verdana//

[Verdana]

Shay hated watching herself do something so cruel. Using his tail as a weapon? It was just downright malicious. Shay watched in horror, expecting more violence, more future pain. There was no way he would... Oh, would you look at that? He was backing of. Shay expected to feel relieved, but she didn't. Not really. She felt terrible that her dirty secret had provoked his. He was gushing blood and trembling violently. His wing was shattered, his shoulder dislocated, and he was not in a good way. He backed away, and although he had not given up, he was no longer fighting.

He was frightened of the Power, and for good reason.

He spoke, but it wasn't to Shay. He knew. He knew that it wasn't her. He spoke to the Power, which watched him. The blandness tok on a slightly haughty air. His voice wavered. The Power took a step forward. Suddenly, it was by Kuar's side. It did not touch him, but it said, in a voice that filled the room while being no louder than a whisper:
The Undoer must be set in motion. The Choir Invisible must reach Tangibility. That which is Ordained must come to pass. It looked into Kuar, and reached into his mind. With calm acceptance, it greeted his demonic self with the air of one old friend to another.

Then it surrendered the body back to Shaygrin.

Shay's back arched as she shrank back to her usual size. Every bone in her body shrieked after being squeezed out of shape and then back into it. Her arm began to gush blood, as did her scalp and the many other open wounds on her body. Her arm tumbled, limp, to her side. It was twisted out of its usual and hung like a sack of meat. Bruises were blossoming on her body. She collapsed to the floor, wheezing. Her chest burned with every breath she took. She shuddered and gagged dryly.
I'm sorry, she gasped hoarsely.
I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean.. I tried to... It never...
She flipped herself onto her back. Her magic was depleted, so as well as being in a whole lot of pain, she was also exhausted. Nonetheless, she began to prop herself onto her good arm.

Let me... Help...

[Tundra]

Kuar flinched slightly as Shay came to his side, the words of this entity echoing in his ears. He could feel it enter his mind, but, didn't fight. He really didn't want to waste his energy, he would need it and he knew it. He pushed himself further away from Shay as she collapsed. He could see her go back to normal, he knew this version of Shay. He was glad to see it, but at the same time still kept his distance. He whimpered slightly hearing Shay speak. It was her voice, and for once he was glad to hear it. He didn't look at her though, he was in to much pain really to care. He reached up and forced his shoulder back into its socket and let out a gasp of pain and placing both his arms on the ground for support.

They both looked horrible, and the house did as well. The walls were broken, chairs broken, and paintings all over the floor. Glass was shattered, and overall the house was just a mess from the fight. Kuar curled his tail closer to him, to keep it out of Shays reach. This was when he finally looked at her, the glow of his eyes finally gone. He wasn't in danger, at least he felt he wasn't anymore. He looked at Shay and assessed the damage she had received. Her arm, it, it just looked horrible. The open wound, the shattered writs, the overall placement of the arm. It sent shivers down his spine to think he had done the damage. He heard Shay speak this time able to make out the words "Let me... Help..." Kuar looked at her questionably. She wanted to help him? she should help herself, of all times now was a time to help herself. He pulled away, but at the same time moved closer.

He silently reached out gripping Shays broken arm and the aura appeared on his hand. One would be able to feel the one move back into place, the shards setting themselves where they were supposed to be. It was a painful process, and it it happened so fast. He pulled his hand back, but the healing continued until ever piece of bone was in place and slightly mended so it would remain in place. He was sweating now, but still had a lot of energy, at least magically inclined. He pulled himself away again as he flicked his tail again..and cringed in pain as he did. He reached carefully for his wing and let the magic seep from his fingers and into the bones. He ground his teeth in pain as each and every shard placed itself back in place. The blood trickled from the wound still, being forced out now since the bones were moving. As it mended, Kuar almost collapsed from the pain. His claws dig into the carpet..which would need a lot of cleaning. The whole place would need cleaning. Kuar whimpered again before saying to shay after the long silence, "Your going to explain to me..what just happened...." He let out a sharp breath as pain shot up his spine again.

The two most serious wounds were healing now between them, but only enough to make sure no permeate damage was done. It actually took more energy for him to fix Shays arm, then it did for his wing. Then again he also had to fix muscle in Shays arm. He took a deep breath as he curled his tail around himself again. He was shivering, but it was because his body was redirecting its immune system to take care of anything that might get into his open wounds. Kuar looked down with his good eye at his hands, which were covered in blood. It wasn't an uncommon sight for him, but this sent chills down his spine. He started wiping his hands on the carpet. He had to get it off, the carpet could be replaced. But right now he was scarred, not to mention scared. He would not mention either though, he was to proud for that. Right now he just needed some time to collect what had just happened.

[Verdana]

Only when she was lying face-up did Shay get a look at the house. It wasn't pretty. It reminded Shay of one of the many war zones she had frequented as a young woman, only without the refugees. In fact, she and Kuar rather fitted the bill. Image completed. She would have laughed, but her ribs wouldn't let her. She stared at the ceiling as Kuar inched away. She was in no fit state to chase after him. She felt dizzy. Her throat hurt. So did her head. That usually happened when the Power took over her body. Her bones, though, and her muscles, were in a new world of pain. She didn't want to move. Staying still was no fun, but the idea of trying to move made her feel sick.

So, when Kuar took her arm, she didn't pull away. She regretted that later.

Having one's bones set is about as fun as breaking them. Shay stiffened, but didn't scream. She bit into her cheek to stop herself from doing so. She remembered a time, years ago and yet only yesterday, when she had clamped her teeth down on a young man's arm as he stitched up her ankle with yellow thread. She had no arm now. No young man who loved her with all of his heart. Her eyes filled momentarily with tears, which she quickly blinked back. She did not cry. She was a merciless mercenary. She would not cry. She stayed as still as she could, for setting bones was not easy, and trembled very slightly. However, after a moment he released her, although the bones continued to knit. She lay on the floor, breathing hard, as her arm slipped back into place. She'd have to be very careful with it. Slinging it may be a good idea, she thought to herself.

Then she heard Kuar's gasped question.

She didn't want to answer. The Power was not an easy subject for her to confront. But, she owed him this. He deserved to know. She took the deepest breath she could, and tried to formulate an answer.

She started as simply as she could, and fumbled along, gasping between words.

Ever since... I remember... Called it... The Power. Came when... Small child... Stopped me... Getting... Lost. Wasn't there be... Fore. Mi'Cher never... Had it... Just me. Mama said... Good... Wanted to... Help me. Not... Crazy. Not part... Of my mind. Something else... Something... Old. It... Knows... What has to happen... Wants me to... Follow... Certain path. I did... Wrong. Changed... The path. Didn't... Listen to Vlad... Knife... He threw a knife... Ran... Away. Was s'posed to... Stay. Doesn't... Like that. Can't... Take me... Back. Wants to... Can't. I... Make the choices. But it's... Fighting me. It's... Not angry, doesn't... Feel 'motions. But... Fighting. Always. Fighting.

Unbidden, Shay's eyes filled. She turned her head so that Kuar would not see two despairing tears drop silently onto the carpet below her.

Hate it... So... Much... she whispered in a tiny voice.
Toys... With me... Can't... Stop... It...

[Tundra]

Kuar listened to Shay's labored breathing, and her explanation. While she explained, he reached down and much to his body's dismay cracked his tail back into place. His claws dug into the carpet as he closed his eyes from the pain that seemed to slither up his spine. If one looked real close they could see what almost looked like a tear. Which it was, but Kuar would never admit that. His tail flicked in pain, only causing himself even more pain. He sighed, at least there was an explanation as to what had just happened. Otherwise he would have probably curled up more trying to figure it out in his own mind.

He growled in pain as he folded his wings and lifted himself up. He stumbled slightly feeling the fiery pain of splinters in his skin. He almost collapsed again, his claws reaching out and using the wall as support. He held his head as he walked carefully over to the medical cabinet, which was broken and all over the floor. He clawed though the rubble before finding the bandages and some alcohol to clean the wounds. He stumbled to Shay, setting the supplies down before retrieving clean cloths so he could wipe away the blood that was beginning to clot. His side stung, which is when he realizes that his side had reopened even though the wound was stitched. He set his hand on his side and groaned slightly in pain. He flicked his tail again, it was habit, but each and every time he just growled from the pain. Finally he looked at Shay and moved to her side.

Kneeling next to Shay he took the cloth and said "You..need more help then me..I'm..sorry..I..I had no control.." he reached down gently after placing some alcohol on the rag and scrubbed lightly at the wounds on her head. His eye was still bleeding lightly, but had clotted enough. The wound was swollen, and he could no longer open that eye. Kuar himself was to scared to mess with the wound since he couldn't even see the damage. For now he tended Shay while doing some some of his magic slipped into her bones and body to help ease the pain. Oddly for someone who had just been thrown around the room, Kuar could move with ease.

Though it was obvious he was in pain. He flicked his tail again cringing in pain before looking back at it and sighing. It would be the most annoying wound he had received in awhile. He sighed again returning to Shays wound on her head. Once he had cleaned it out he wrapped it up, propping shay up enough so he would not constantly have to be lifting her head. He would have moved to tending her shoulder, but he found he was getting tired fast. He placed his claws on floor yawning in exhaustion, but he had to make sure shay was tended. He knew she didn't agree with it, but he had this sense that he should. He tended her wound, and a lot more kindly then she had last tended him. Then again he was tired, and was making sure he didn't screw something up. He let out a tired breath, before examining her shoulder to make sure he had cleared anything that could cause infection.

[Verdana]

//The Saga of the Missing Arm//

Her mind expands to fill the room. The Power takes this gap greedily. It is starting to realise that its current Empress is a bit of a dunce. It has to use any opportunity it can get to investigate its surroundings. It has been sitting impatiently in said Empress's mind, waiting for her to notice the small detail of, oh, her new arch nemesis, perhaps? It keeps shoving this to the forefront of her mind, but does she notice? Of course not. She's far too busy playing with that stupid toy the Knight Protector left her. What was he thinking? Didn't he know any better?

Anyway, it thrusts itself through this gap, travelling out to investigate the rest of the monastery. It's just as it thought. He's here. He's here, and he's looking for vengeance. It has to warn the bloody oblivious, bloody stupid Empress in Waiting. It's starting to believe that the girl has a death wish. Setting its metaphorical jaw, it thrusts forward with full intent to take control and send her far, far away.

Mid-note, it hits me. An overwhelming rush of power. Or, more accurately, Power. I'd actually forgotten about that small facet of my mind. Silly me for thinking it was gone. It's not. Oh, boy is it not. It shoots to the front of my mind, with clear intent of taking over my body. Now, see, I have something to say about that. I yelp in discomfort, panic and shock, and force it back. It struggles, feeling like a fleshy, powerful eel in my mind. So slippery. So fast... I groan, falling to the floor and curling into a ball. I start to chant old fighting rhymes in a concerted effort to keep control.

It's desperate, it really is. It wheedles, threatens, throws images at me to imspire fear. I try as best as I can to ignore it. Still, tears stream down my face. Resisting it hurts! I scrabble, clawing at my head, at the shelves, at my face, trying to make it stop, make it subside. Then, in a moment of distraction, it breaks through.

She fights. Foolish girl, thinks the Power furiously. It's trying to help, it really is. This is serious. It tries to show her the peril that is fast approaching, but the arrogant moron blocks it out. If the Power were a lesser being, it would stomp its foot and scream in irritation. However, it knows that she can't last forever. She's young and easily distracted. She'd break. Then she does, and it sees through her eyes. It stops the body's convulsing, and stands. It has to be quicky. The new Vade, the terrible Vade, he's smart. He'll feel the flit and be on it in an instant. The Power only has one shot at it. It gathers up most of the Empress's considerable power, and fli-

It's got control. No no no, it will kill me! It has no limits, it's ruthless and cruel and terrible. It will exhaust me, leave me defenseless. And who knows what else it will do? What it will destroy? Who it will kill? It's gathering up my magyck. It's going to do something. I have to get control! I have to stop it! I bare my metaphorical teeth, curl up, and spring for control. It's got a wall up. It holds, holds. I feel the Power preparing to flit. No. No, I can't. I give a mind-yell, and force it back, forcing my own personality back into the body.

I couldn't choose a worse moment. It happens mid-flit. My eyes are tightly closed as I ricochet around in my own form. Something doesn't feel quite right. I smell parchment all around me. I don't think I've moved. But yet, yet I've flitted. But how? Where? Cautiously, I open my eyes. I look down at my left arm. Or... My eyes widen, and the strangeness of the situation gets the better of me. I begin to scream.

//In a galaxy far, far away//

It's a farm. It's a very ordinary, nondescript farm, noteworthy only for the fact that nothing of note ever happens there. A farm hand is working in the field. He's tilling the soil, muttering to himself as he does so to keep the rhythm. Then, something hits him on the head. He looks up, expecting another hand to throwing something at him, but instead ends up face-to-face with a hand. His eyes travel up it, expecting a body. None is in sight. Just the hand and the arm, up to the elbow, floating in mid-air. It's a very pretty, feminine hand, and as he watches, it twitches, lifts, and the hands becomes a trembling fist.

This is too much for the poor, simple man, and he faints.

//In England, in Pain//

He was in pain. So was she. Neither of them was in a good way. There was a pause, after Shay gave her explanation, and as she waited, she thought about how downright ridiculous it had sounded. That was probably why he wasn't saying anything, Shay thought glumly. He either didn't believe her, or he wanted to get away from her as soon as possible. It was the latter, she decided, as he got up and stumbled away. She felt an odd regret that her only ally was leaving, but she supposed that she deserved it. The Power was not very nice, and it had done some major damage to him. She lay on the floor, pieces of debris pressing into her neck, and wondered simply how she would manage to get home without being killed by something.

Shay smelled alcohol a second before she smelled Kuar.
'Oh good,' she thought. 'He's brought me something to drink.'
He hadn't. Kuar sat back down beside her, and before Shay could sit up, there was a monumental stinging sensation in her head. She gasped in pain, tears filling her eyes. It wasn't entirely due to agony. It had been a long time since anyone had tended to Shay, or even treated her with any dignity. To be nursed was at once foreign and familiar. That was why she lay still without protest. She told herself that it was because he owed her this, or because it was too painful to move, but in reality, she simply enjoyed the feeling of somebody caring about her.

She felt him growing weary, but he didn't stop. He didn't rest. He was going to finish caring for her, and although it hurt, Shaygrin didn't want it to stop. She gritted her teeth as he propped her up. Oh, by the blade, that hurt... Her lip was fat and swollen. Her nose was bent out of shape, but not quite broken. And, finally, after aeons, he was done. Shay turned to Kuar as he examined his handiwork critically. She smiled at him wanly, and takes the alcohol from his trembling hands. The cloth is coated with her blood. She puts it down, and tears the cleanest bit of shirt she can find.
No, I'm sorry, she muttered.
It did that... On purpose. That was... my fault. Stay still now...

She began to wipe off his wounds. The one in his side had split open, and she mopped that one up first, as it was the one most likely to become infected. She swabbed every inch of it with a delicate, ginger hand. It could have been a different person tending to Kuar, in comparison to the last time she had done so. Then she moved on to his tail. That was the hard part. It flicked in pain, and it was quite a task to hold it down. Without realising she was doing it, she began to sing. She was breathless, and hoarse, but she had always kept good tune. She sang in Sylvan. It came most easily to her. It was a sea song she had learned with her pirates. It was one of the few which wasn't obscene. It told the story of a young man who had become marooned on a sand dune while escaping from a storm, who knew that he would not live past high tide and wished in vain that he could have one more day with his love.

It was a sad song, and as Shay worked her way across Kuar's body, swabbing every wound with the gentlest, most thorough touch, her eyes filled. She longed for her childhood, being beaten up and used mercilessly by pirates. She missed her innocence. She missed her ignorance. She missed Vlad, and companionship, and knowing that she was safe even when she wasn't. She felt terribly alone as she sat beside a demon who had tried to kill her, daintily picking splinters out of his skin. She was terrified, of the long, cruel life before her, of the being inside her, of the path she had not taken. Her voice betrayed nothing of her tears, which splashed onto the alcohol-soaked piece of shirt and blended with the cleansing liquid.

She, in turn, did not stop until every inch of Kuar's body was sterilised. Then she sat beside him, panting, her cheeks wet.

[Tundra]

Kuar flinched back at first, remembering the last time Shay had tended him. He didn't want her to tend him, but he got a sense of regret that emanated off her. So, he held still, and unlike before Shay was being..gentle..if that was the word to describe it. Kuar found himself easing down to the floor so he wasn't straining his muscles anymore. Though as soon as she moved to his tail his muscles tensed and he cringed in pain each and every time the tail flicked away from the pain she was causing. At the same time he was starting to feel a bit better, and, was growing tired very fast. Then, from the mist of the pain Kuar could make out Shay's voice. Though tired and weary, it emanated the air breaking the silence that once was.

He looked up at Shay, he could see the tears hidden behind her eyes. Though like him she was holding them back. They both seemed sad, but in the situation, it fit. Kuar let out a long sigh as he looked out one of the windows into the distance. If Conis was still around, Kuar probably would have ended up tending his own wounds, and locked down in the training room. Conis was a cold fellow, but had a soft heart sometimes. And one of those few times was when he took Kuar in, tended the wound inflicted on him and taught him. Perhaps the man saw something in him then, but Kuar never really understood why Conis had cared at all. Kuar shook his head not wanting to linger in his past. He sighed again feeling his eyes begin to become heavy. When Shay finally finished, Kuar forced himself to his feet. He sure as hell wasn't sleeping on the floor, no, he probably would sleep in the master bedroom. He stretched himself lightly, being careful not to wound himself more. He had to, otherwise his muscles may buckle under him. Looking at Shay he said "There is a bed in the room across from the closet, sleep there...I think it best if we get sleep now...even though it is still daylight...were...both worn out....." He looked down to the ground as he walked painfully back towards the Master bedroom.

He hovered in the doorway for awhile, it having been a long wile since he had even come near this room. It still smelled of Conis, and the countless days he had returned her after a job well done. There was even a few splatters of dried blood on the wall. Then again Kuar growled lightly when he saw the blood covered dagger that stuck plainly clear in the wall. He looked down at the floor sighing before entering the room and crawling onto the bed and curling up. He pulled his tail close, and folded his wings carefully. He would have to take care, he still had to brace his wing. But he was to tired to do so now, and as long as he didn't slam it on anything it should be good for the night. He yawned closing his eyes, but rest was not an easy thing for him to come by. He felt himself begin to shiver, which only made him curl up tighter. The covers did no good either, it was him. He felt alone suddenly, a small tear escaping his eye and dripping down onto the bed. He missed Conis, but he would never say it, never mention it. He sat there trying to sleep, until finally falling into a light rim sleep.

[Verdana]

//One of Many Times when Shay was in Peril//

Oh my... Oh my... I shudder in discomfort. I can feel the lack of blood in my face, and that's saying something. My head is spinning. I... I can feel... Can feel my a-arm... Only I can't... And it's not there... And there's no blood or nothing... Just... Just my upper arm... Then nothing... Nothing... The shelves spin around me, but I desperately hold onto the last of my composure. I can't faint. I won't faint. If I do, who knows what the Power will do to my body? No, no I need to stay awake. I need... Need to find someone. Someone who can help me. Get. Get my arm back. Yes, that's sensible. Need help before this goes wrong.

Then my meandering mind hits a snag, something that throws me so badly that I need to sit down. Who's going to help? Vlad's not awake, and he'd tell me to fix it myself anyway. Who's that leave? I lick my lips. My left hand twitches, wherever it is. The thought alone makes my heart thump and my head spin, so I force any thoughts of my left arm, or lack thereof, from my mind. It's at about the time that I'm determinedly not thinking about my limbs that I become aware of a strange tingling in my ear. Or... Oh no. I lift my hand to my ear, only to find empty space. I don't scream. I'm strong. But I want to. Scream or faint or puke. All fo them are rather tempting. Especially fainting. But I don't. I...

Tuck! He can help me! He knows... Okay, I'm not exactly sure what he knows, but he knows stuff! he's Vlad's right-hand man! Surely he's picked up something in this time! I haul myself upright, and begin to stagger to the door. Walking, moving, having purpose, it helps. But all the while there's this terrible feeling of not-rightness, of... If I had to put a word to it, I'd call it disintegration, happening in my body. I reach the door, and it swings open as soon as I put my hand to it. Muttering a thieves' luck charm (thieves are full of superstitions) I make my way up the stairs. At one point, I fall, and should bang my left elbow. Only I don't have one. This strikes me as extremely funny, and I laugh the rest of the way up.

Until I get to the coffin. Even before I lift it, I know something's terribly wrong. I can smell it, see. I can smell the fear and blood and even... My back prickles, because I know I'm going to find something dreadful when I open the stone. There's no question of me going back, though. I may be weak and scared, but I'm brave too. Almost to the point of stupidity, in fact. Anything other than going up to face whatever's happened is cowardice, and I despise cowardice in everyone, including myself. So, taking a shuddering breath, I haul the stone open.

I had hoped that it wouldn't be as bad as I'd imagined. It was a feeble hope. Monks lie dead on the chapel floor. And there, in one corner...
Tuck, I breathe, and start forward. Three steps into my journey, a terrible pain hits my non-ear. I stagger, fall to my knees, get up again. My whole body's going a little bit numb. I'm not sure I like it any better than feeling. I black out temporarily, and when I come to, I'm sitting beside Tuck with my fingers beside his wound.
[b[What's going on? What happened?[/b] I pant. Do I have the magic to heal him? Will he let me? I raise my... Well, I raise both of my arms and only my right arm, if you see where I'm getting at. Be kind. This is difficult for me.

There's a moment of tingliness, then terrible stinging begins in my non-existent arm. I give a wail of agony.


//In a farming community that's rapidly becoming terrified//

He's only unconscious for a moment. When he opens his eyes again, the hand's still there. It moves erratically, waving, jolting as if attached to an invisible string. Or an invisible body. The young farm hand cannot think that deeply. Instead, he does what any wise lad would do when confronted by a floating hand. He gets to his feet, and runs to the nearest farmhouse for help.

He returns some time later with the inhabitants of the farm. The weathe-beaten owner, his plump little wife, their teenage son and young daughter. In silence, they all stare at the arm. The farmer purses his lips, then sends his little daughter to fetch the inhabitants of the next farm over, and the next, and the next. It's clear to him, he says, that they're in the company of something Out Of The Ordinary. Something had to be done about it. His son he charged with the mission of fetching the nearest doctor. Doctors, in the farmer's opinion, know about things like that.

They wait, keeping their distance from the Oddity, flinching when it moved. Then it begins to move. They hesitate for a while, and then make the choice to follow it. It moves across the field, losing height, gaining height. A silent procession follows it. The inhabitants on the next farm arrive, then the next, until the procession is a mob, all silently viewing the Oddity which floats jerkily through the land. Then it stops. Just in time, the doctor arrives, huffing as he dismounts his sweaty horse. He looks at the hand, which is moving, garbbing as if towards some unseen goal. The farmers nearest it back away, but it doesn't seem to be aiming for anyone in particular.

The doctor looks at it from all angles, left, right, under, over. He purses his lips. He hems and haws. Then he announces that he has a theory. The doctors hold their breath, gasping as the hand drops. The doctor goes on to insist that it is a spirit, something not solid, not of this world, and therefore harmless. Then he whips out a scalpel, and proclaims that he will prove that it's only a trick of the eye. As the arm extends again, he raises the scalpel and slices into the skin.

//England, 1800s//

Shay wasn't sure what was going to happen after she tended to Kuar. To be honest, she wasn't thinking that far. She knew that she needed to reciprocate the care that the demon had so meticulously given her, but she couldn't think any further. She almost hoped that he would pick her up and just...
Do what? Do what Vlad used to do? Scoop you up and tuck you in? Feed you tea and stroke your hair back from your face? Forget it, you foolish girl. You have left him. You're not going back. So, grow up. Grow a backbone. You're alone now. You're independent. Wasn't that what you wanted so much?

Was it?

Kuar stood up, ending her reverie, and directed her to a door. Sleep. Yes. Sleep sounded very good indeed. Shay was beginning to shake, and she wanted nothing more than to pass out and try to recover. But getting up... It seemed very difficult indeed... However, Shay had no interest in showing weakness to Kuar. She hauled herself to her feet. Her legs shook. She took a very deep breath, and nodded to Kuar. She didn't trust herself to speak. She swallowed, set her shoulders, and hobbled towards the bedroom.

Shay didn't see many details. She didn't really care about what the room looked like. her eyes focused on the bed, and that was it. She didn't register size, shape or quality. It was a bed, and she was exhausted. She flopped onto it, and let out a yowl as her body protested. Gingerly, she shifted position until she was vaguely comfortable. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Only, she didn't. She tossed and turned (which was painful), but she couldn't get comfortable. The bed resisted. It would not let her sleep. The bed was empty and lonely, and got steadily colder. A bit of Shaygrin's mind registered that she was going into shock. It told her what she needed to do. But Shay's body wasn't listening. It knew that it was uncomfortable and wrong, and all it wanted to do was lounge around and feel miserable. The day trickled on, and Shay grew steadily less happy. She was cold and shivery and felt dizzy. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to solve it. It steadily dawned on her that what she really wanted was companionship. She wanted to know that if something went wrong, someone would be there to help. But to go to Kuar? Pah! Weakness. Pathetic.

However, as time drew on, the idea became more and more palatable. Shay's pride began to crumble. She was so very sore, and very lonely. What good would it do, staying alone? After about four hours of sheer agony and misery, Shay couldn't take it any more. She sat up. The room spun. She sat down abruptly, feeling nauseous. It hurt too much.. It was too far... But she was never going to sleep alone. Wincing, feeling like a fool and even worse, feeling weak, she got up, and staggered across the hallway. Debris and glass crunched under her boots. She fell twice, skinning her knee the second time. She bore it stoically. She traced Kuar by his smell, and quietly opened the door to his room.

He was curled up in a ball on the bed, and was just about asleep. Shay didn't smile. It wasn't worth it. She tripped towards the bed, standing over Kuar momentarily before sitting down on the bed with a thud.
Move over, she muttered, crawling towards him. She pressed her face against his chest, and instantly felt a bit better.
This isn't... Personal or anything, Shay muttered, inching as close as she could to him and cradling her sore arm against her chest.

She did not elaborate.

[Tundra]

Kuar's body jolted slightly when Shay entered the room, but he didn't visibly wake. No, he only stirred when Shay finally say down on the bed. Not only that she seemed to curl up next to him. At first Kuar didn't know how to react, his eyes opening to look at Shay. "Move over, This isn't... Personal or anything" He heard those words enter his ears and sighed, he was to tired to object in anyway...not that he would. As she moved closer, Kuar cringed slightly as some of his wounds were disturbed. Though once she was settled in, Kuar lifted his wing and covered her with it. "Nothing...personal..." His accent was thick this time, he was usually able to control it, but he was just to tired. His tail flicked painfully behind him as he started to fall asleep again.

His dreams..were not the best, causing his muscles to tense and release from the labor of his dream. He was training, blades clashing, blood spilling, the whole deal. But this time, he saw Conis, but something was off. Well, actually it was quite obvious what was off as the mans eyes were pule blue. Kuar growled, but seemed never to get any closer to ending the nightmare. Until finally he woke, his breathing a bit labored as he opened his eyes into the darkness of the room, though found a shocking pain as one of his eyes protested at such an act. It wasn't even day again yet, but he felt a sense of fear. He curled himself tighter, before taking a second to remember shay was still there. He looked at her for a bit pondering what may have brought the woman to lay by his side. He took a death breath and let it out slowly before trying to fall asleep again. This time as he did, there was no dreams, and Kuar was glad for that. It allowed him to sleep deep, and forget for the time being about the pain. His breathing slowed and heart rate as well until it was definitely obvious he was in a deep sleep...Oddly..shay being there..eased his nerves enough to let him sleep. He would never say this to the woman, but it eased his mind for now to admit it.

[Verdana]

//Shay Makes Things Worse//

He's alive. He's still alive. He's not dead. He's alive. Not well, perhaps. He's bleeding, and the smell makes my ears ring. But at least he's not dead. I wouldn't be able to bear that. What happened? I didn't hear or feel anythin- Wait a second... The Power tried to flit me. It tried to... Does that mean that... Oops. I reach into the back of my mind, through the haze of pain and the strange stinging in my nonexistent arm, trying to find the Power. Trying to see if my guess bears truth. I reach deep, deep into my mind, but come up against a barrier I'm sure I didn't make. I press, but it holds firm.

I don't believe it. It's sulking!

I shake away the fogginess in my head, the pain in my arm. Something's gone horrendously wrong. I need to talk to Tuck. I need advice, and it seems like Vlad's out of action. He's all I've got. He's weak, but I can save him. I can protect him. But... Apparently, he's got different ideas. He's telling me to leave. Leave? I don't want to- Wait, what's he saying? I didn't hear that right. I couldn't have. Vade? No, Vade's a friend. He's my friend. He saved me once. He carried me out of a war ground. He would never... Only, I stop myself. I can't say that. I feel guilt trickle through my skull. I haven't seen him, talked to him, heard about him since we sent him to Vlad's friend. I thought he was fine. But I didn't check... I forgot about him. Is he angry? Is that why he's... But what if Tuck's wrong? I look at the injured monk in anguish, but I only see the truth in his face. He thinks Vade is destroying the monastery.

I reel back, panting. I feel cold. My chest is constricted. I'm starting to shake. I recognise the symptoms. I'm going into shock. It's happened twice before. The first time I was stabbed properly, and the time where... I'd rather not think about that. This is shock, alright, and it will consume me soon. Fortunately, I can get vague control of myself. I take deep, deep breaths. I count in my head. I watch Tuck, clinging to him like a drowning child to a piece of wood. My nails dig into my hands. They've grown long through lack of care, and pierce the skin. I don't care. The pain keeps me from being lost. I need to leave, I need to leave now. But I don't know where to go.

Tuck presses something into my hand. I look down. It's a ring. I stare at it. Somewhere that's not here, I feel my other hand touch something. Instinctively, I recoil it, but a moment later the feeling persists. My lost hand closes around it. It's firm, but... I clench. The something goes squish. I swallow, paling. I didn't expect that. The ring's still solid, though. I wait for Tuck to say that he'll look after Vlad (because even if he can't, I need to hear someone say that Vlad will be okay) before I put the ring over my finger. I begin to flit. But just before I do, I hear something in my missing ear. Something that shatters my last grasp on control.

That flit is the most painful I've ever experienced. It's possibly the worst I'll ever experience, too. My arm and the part of my ear that remained (which isn't much) disintegrate further, little particles tearing off me and flying into wherever I'm passing. They don't leave easily, and every time a piece of me breaks off, I feel it acutely. And through this, thoughts of my sister, my big sister, the one who should have lived, pass through my head. I heard someone say they found her. Was it Vlad? Was it a hallucination? I don't know what would be worse, if I'd given her up for dead when she was alive or if I'm steadily going mad. My mind whirls, and I'm screaming long before I hit the ground.

My knees press against solidness. My eyes are open, but register nothing. I can't feel anything except for this piercing cold. I'm shaking violently.
MI'CHEEEEEEER! I wail, a loud, hoarse, bestial noise that seems to make the world tremble. The word steadily loses coherence, until I'm just howling. Not screaming, not shrieking, but howling. I collapse onto my stomach, and curl into a trembling ball, my arm lost to me, my ear hearing things that pull my reality apart.


//In a farming community that's attempting to be creative//


That did not go as planned, the doctor mutters to himself, wiping blood off of his hand. He'd expected his scalpel to pass straight through the apparition. It hadn't. The arm had pulled back, as if in pain, and it had bled. The farmers were muttering amongst themselves in increasing panic. This is no mere spirit. It was something real.

The doctor purses his lips. He needs to proceed carefully, without causing alarm. He reaches out to the arm, and touches it. It doesn't seem to notice, but the farmers' chatter becomes nervous. The doctor feels the skin, as if examining a patient. It feels... Well, it feels like healthy skin. Perhaps a little too cool, but just like any woman. He draws back, and looks at it. It's an arm that appears, at first glance, to be in good condition, but when he looks more closely, he sees that it is crisscrossed with little scars. The fingers twitch. He decides to try an experiment. He asks for a tomato.

While he's waiting for one, he thinks about where the arm could have come from. The flesh is pale, like a noble, though it's dappled with scars like a worker. It seems to react. Sometimes. The doctor is handed a tomato. He mutters thanks, and then approaches the hand again. The arm's beginning to shake, though he can't understand why. He puts his fingers in the dainty palm. It recoils, as if shocked. A woman's, he muses. He waits for the hand to settle, then he passes it the tomato. It holds the red fruit, feels the flesh, and then squeezes it. The tomato spatters. The hand makes strange motions. It's disgusted, the doctor decides.

He's still no closer to finding out what the arm is, though. He asks for a cloth, to buy himself some time.


//In the Present, Waking Up//

Shay felt her shivering slow down. Her breathing became more even. Her eyelashes fluttered, brushing against Kuar's neck. She pressed her nose against his neck, not because he was Kuar, but because he was there. Her nose clicked, and blood started to trickle out of it, but compared to the other injuries that she had sustained, a bleeding nose was not nearly the most significant. She wiped it absently with her good hand, gave a little sigh, and dozed off.

Sometimes, when Shay was particularly stressed, she dreamed in Transylvanian. She had spoken it for about fifty years, and usually in situations of extreme tension and distress. So, in similar situations, she still tended to revert. This was one of those times.
Her dreams centered around Valgaderion. She dreamed of the first day she saw her new face, after she almost killed herself. She dreamed of the fights, her first flit, her realisation of her real past. She dreamed of fights and blossomings and all sorts of horrible incidents which made her skin crawl. Most of all, she dreamed of Vlad.

She felt herself waking up, and was disorientated. Her nose was blocked with clotted blood. She couldn't smell a thing. Half-asleep, she felt the sensation of a body beside her. In her mind, there was only one logical conclusion to draw. There was only one man, after all, who she had ever fallen asleep beside.

She smiled sleepily without opening her eyes.
What did you do to me this time, you fool? she muttered in effortless Transylvanian. She was growing aware that her body was not at all happy. She shifted closer to him, wincing slightly. She pressed her face under his jaw, and playfully licked along his jawline. It had always freaked the very conventional Vlad out when she did that. That was why she'd done it. Oddly, his face was not stubbly.
You shaved, she muttered, disappointed. She extended a leg, and rubbed it seductively towards...

Her eyes snapped open, and grew wide.
Not Vlad not Vlad not Vlad!

Shay yelped in horror and mortification, leaping backwards. She shot off of the bed, and landed hard on the floor. Instantly, her body reminded her about exactly what she'd been doing the day before. She gave a scream of pain, shock and dismay, utterly bewildered with no recollection of where she was.

[Tundra]

Kuar's claws dug into the bed as he as broken from his sleep by Shay's voice. And..then there was the licking of his jawline. His eyes shot open, but he winced feeling the pain of his right eye scolding him for such an action. He growled slightly bolting himself at about the same time Shay did against the opposite wall from her. And, that was when he heard the clear sound of something breaking...crack...and then, the pain. Kuar gasped reaching up and holding his wing, his teeth grinding together at the massive amount of pain that engulfed his being. His face scrunched up, his teeth bared, he was definitely in pain. Whats worse then breaking...and already broken bone. Kuar took a sharp breath between his teeth and cursed under his breath in Icelandic.

"dammit, dammit dammit.............my wing...o..god this hurts..." He clenched his wing wishing the pain would just stop. It throbbed with each and ever heart beat until his body finally adjusted, easing the pain. Though the wing quickly swelled up and became ever more hard to move. Kuar clawed into the dresser near him as he forced himself to his feet, much to his entire body's dismay. He looked over at Shay and with sharp words of pain and frustration said "Dammit Shay, what the hell was that!..I should KILL you! DAMMIT it hurts..." He crawled back up on the bed and cursed ever curse word there was to be found in his tongue. It was plainly clear he was pissed off, frustrated, and STILL tired. He was shaking from the pain, his hands unable to stay still. There was indeed a glow to his eyes, but he wasn't pissed off enough to go feral. Even if he did, he wouldn't be able to do much other then growl in the corner at the pain. He sighed as he pulled himself off the bed and growled as he passed Shay into the hallway.

Walking down he went to his medicine cabinet and grabbed the needed supplies to splint his wing...which..was broken again. He growled in pain as he reset the wing, let his magic flow into it enough to reset the bone to heal right and bound the wing as such it wouldn't break again. The entire time he was cursing in pain, cringing, and not in the best of moods. What a day already, and it could only get better! He grumbled under his breath as he reached down and splinted his tail as well. He needed his tail to heal correctly as well, but he didn't need the magic to hold it in place. The break in his tail was a simple one, but would need a bit of time to heal. After tending everything he went into his old room and just..shut the door. He was pissed off enough he just..needed some time alone..to calm himself. Maybe later he would go to the training room and stab the crap out of a dummy, but for now he just..needed to breath. He curled up on the bed as he tried to collect his thoughts.